Demons who resist sexual intercourse to the point of being unable to resist can actually eat.

Based on current research, the key to succubus feeding is fluid intake, mucosal contact, and energy flow brought about by orgasm, with the effectiveness of the three gradually increasing. To solve Rachel's current predicament, it's simple enough to set up a forbidden zone, tie him up, and call a male prostitute to fuck him.

I don't know if he didn't think of it or didn't want to think about it, but I know if I bring it up, Rachel will grit her teeth and do it. He is not an escapist, always resorting to any means necessary to achieve his goals, being cruel to others and himself.

Will that happen in his room or the living room? Will he continue to let me stay and have me stand beside him as a fuse, watching him while he gets fucked? Suddenly, a scene flashed through my mind as my mentor was pressed beneath someone, stirring up with their movements. He had no expression on his face, fear hidden beneath disgust, his eyes still looking at me as if there was nowhere else to see.

I know Rachel is an evil scumbag.

For many people, he is an unforgivable villain, and no punishment is too much. Just being beaten up is nothing? Besides, he's a succubus. Damn it, he's taking care of him.

Rachel is a powerful black robed mage who is neither weak nor pitiful. He almost killed me many times, and now he has dragged me into a deadly predicament. In the future, he may: A、 He couldn't lift the curse, so I went to hell with him; B、 He successfully lifted the curse, and I am of no use to him. I will be held accountable after autumn. He's so pitiful, it's me who's pitiful. A scumbag like Rachel, whoever can't bear to be with him is a fool.

I'm just a fool.

Have you ever tried eating normally? "I pondered.

I have used meal making techniques before, but it didn't work, "Rachel said.

I was thinking, maybe you can eat normal food? It's not food made by magic such as meal making, but those that grow normally. Have you tried it? "I said," You're still in the process of transforming into a succubus, which is a very special example of a semi succubus

Rachel's eyes lit up, obviously, regardless of whether it was successful or not, this proposal hit him perfectly.

It's not too late yet, "I pouted outside." I'll go take those two ladies back to Echo Harbor. You can come with me. The tavern there is really good. How many times have I been there? Which dish do you like

Whatever, "he quickly replied," let's go

We set off.

We detoured to Echo Harbor, where I returned two prostitutes who only remembered being drunk, and stuffed double the amount of money into their pockets. After going back quickly, I successfully turned Rachel to the largest bonfire tavern in Echo Harbor.

Rachel's meaning is to just find a small restaurant to finish eating, I think. If he didn't want to stay in that room with bad memories for the time being, he would probably insist on me bringing takeout back. But he said to follow me before, so I took him to the place I like. The Bonfire Pile Tavern is very eye-catching, located in the busiest area of Echo Harbor, with waves soaring and crowds surging.

This place is as lively as I remember, filled with people, to be precise, humanoid creatures. Under the bright light, pointed and flat ears swayed around, and the furry waitress shouted to borrow, shuttling between various feet and tails. As soon as we opened the door, the sound drowned us out. Standing here, it was like two drops of ink dripping into a sewer.

This is not the most upscale tavern in Echo Harbor, not the best, but the most popular because it is chaotic enough and relatively safe. It is located at the junction of several factions, belonging to a smart boss with good strength and neutrality. The ships entering the port leave a large number of mercenaries, adventurers, and sailors nearby, and people who are unlikely to meet again sing, laugh, argue, and have a night out with someone they like here. The drinkers were so lively that it seemed like there was no tomorrow, and no one cared about their own affairs.

And the kiwi roasted lamb chops here are very delicious.

There are magical stories floating in the air from all over the world, some true and some false. People carrying secrets and bragging share peculiar experiences together, telling strangers. Most of them float out of others' ears in alcohol and disperse in the air. No one cares who you are. I came here when I was on the run in my early years, and later stayed for a while as a wandering poet. The atmosphere here deeply touches my heart.

Rachel obviously doesn't think so.

I could tell from his stiff back that from the moment he entered the door, he probably had the intention of turning around and rushing back to the portal. Before I could activate any backup plan, Rachel paused and walked into the tavern.

I quickly glanced at him, and anyone with long eyes could tell that Rachel had developed a dislike for this place from the first second. He arrogantly stepped into the tavern, like an ordinary adventurer entering a dungeon filled with slime monsters for a living. The flow of people in the tavern was very high, and the crowd behind us quickly rushed towards us, drowning us both.

We have fallen into the vast sea of the people within a few steps, not to mention keeping the safety distance of the mage, it is difficult not to have physical contact with people. I saw Rachel's expression becoming increasingly gloomy. He used to dislike physical contact and noisy places, and he definitely didn't expect the situation to get so bad.

He glared at me as if it was my fault.

Okay, I have to take half of the responsibility. It was me who handed him the body in front of him.

The black robed mage comes with a cleansing effect, and passersby would rather dance face to face with orcs than stick to these seemingly weak spellcasters. In many occasions where I have been squeezed into small cakes, I miss the days when I walked through the streets wearing a black robe. Today's Rachel is not wearing a black robe, he is dressed in ordinary traveler's clothing, not even a hood.

From another perspective, this fully reflects how much hunger and previous events have affected him. He was restless and even took off his outer robe because of the prostitute's attack. When I handed over this spare outfit, Rachel didn't object much and casually changed it on. I don't know if he knew exactly what I handed him when he put on the robe, but he didn't take it off again.

Rachel loved his wizard robe, or was just too lazy to prepare other clothes, and the black robe with a hood often accompanied him. Besides the first time we met, this is the second time I've seen him wearing another coat. My gaze always drifts towards him, and I regret that I only prepared this one.

This traveler's cloak is my most ordinary outfit, and the rest of the poet's attire is a bit... fancy. I don't have the courage to ask him to wear it for now. A cloak can block wind very well, but it is not worth mentioning in terms of aesthetics. It looks like a bell when worn over the body, and is not as stylish as a black robe. It's a once-in-a-decade outfit change. If I had known, I should have prepared something else.

Nevertheless, Rachel still attracted a lot of attention.

I am slightly taller than Rachel, not to mention my physique. My cloak covered him a bit too big, almost dragging the ground at the end, like a large caliber skirt, making him look particularly small. Under the cloak of disguise and traveler, Rachel appeared pale and thin, like a young introverted scholar, yet still put on an arrogant expression that made people want to move.

He is probably unaware of this.

The Great Demon King Rachel doesn't look scary at all, on the contrary, he can even be considered pretty - but would you find that the scales of the dragon are quite beautiful and charming before you are eaten by it? Nah!

Black robed mages are not all great demon kings, but the ones who are most capable of causing trouble among mages are all black robed, and most people are full of vigilance just when facing mages. The black robe and hood often accompanied Rachel, with pale hair and blood red eyes. The malicious sneer and dangerous scrutiny were stationed on that face for a long time. He also has a chair that can fly high, a magic dragon mount, and can use a large number of terrifying spells in appearance. He only needs to write the words' This is the Great Demon King of the final chapter of the novel/There are three transformations/You are already dead 'on his head.

Simply put, Rachel's "unpleasant" temperament preceded his appearance, immediately intimidating all those who were fortunate (or unfortunate) to see him in person, and the effect was almost like that of a dragon.

Countless adventurers who fled in embarrassment without seeing his true form firmly believed that his appearance was no different from that of a witch. Those who were fortunate enough to have seen his true form and still managed to survive were partly influenced by fear and rumors, while others felt that Rachel's handsome face itself was very terrifying. Unreasonable things are terrifying, and seemingly harmless things in dangerous areas can give people warning signs. After the fierce battle, seeing Rachel on the long legged throne shrouded in black smoke has a similar effect to seeing a crying Luo body beauty in the high-level Warcraft activity area.

It's too far.

All the nonsense mentioned above is to explain that the people in the tavern are not blind or crazy, but just a bit of pretending to be crazy by drinking.

Rachel still maintains a disdainful expression that has remained unchanged for thousands of years. This expression represents danger on the Black Wizard, but on him at this moment, it will arouse some people's desire to say vulgar lines. A little fatigue and absent mindedness added a touch of humanity to him, and his white hair looked unexpectedly soft under the warm light. Even his eyes, which were said to be "blood river like crimson," reminded people of pomegranate seeds. At this moment, the big demon king with red eyes and white hair in the crowd is like a angry rabbit, making people's fingers restless and willing to take the risk of being bitten by the small fangs to pluck a handful of rabbit hair.

Even I didn't expect such an effect.

I separated the girl who was pushing towards Rachel's side and reached out to grab the other hand that was going towards Rachel's buttocks. I feel like a devil seal keeper, covered in some kind of delicious mushrooms, surrounded by a large group of optimistic and enthusiastic half body people. They happily prepared baskets for picking mushrooms, while I was on edge, only kneeling down to beg them not to make a move.

We safely passed through the journey with no danger, and we were only a few steps away from an empty table. Rachel also seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. We were both happy about crossing the sea of people. At this moment, a tall mercenary who had obviously been drinking for several rounds sat down at the only empty table and threw his beer glass onto the table.

No, I wailed in my heart, no no, no, no, don't have this vulgar plot

There's an empty spot here, I'll treat you to a drink! "The guy chuckled at Rachel incoherently," Come here, little beauty, give Uncle Sabi a laugh

You people, I silently sighed, isn't it good to be alive.